Why is it that this time of year, instead of being peaceful and joyful, becomes so hectic and tense?
This is my third year working the "peak" season answering phones for a local catalog company. Every year I hope it will get easier for Cal to deal with. The first year I worked all nights so was not home much at bedtime. He was only 4 so it was difficult for him to understand. This year he is 6 and I work a mix of days and nights. Now he is upset that I can't always pick him up after school because I'm working. The fact that until about two months ago he went to a sitters house after school two or three afternoons each week doesn't seem to register. He's focused on the fact that for a couple of weeks I was able to pick him up after school every day and now I can't.
Between my job working during "peak" and my two other regular paid jobs something seems to always be neglected. Every year I consider not working peak, but then we would lose the year round benefit of using the fitness center, indoor swim lessons and other activities for the kids. Plus the extra money this time of year doesn't hurt. I am constantly weighing the pros and cons.
I want to feel peace and joy this year, but get so overwhelmed by the other crap that it's hard to find it. I'm anxious about Mike's colonoscopy on Thursday, I'm frustrated at how long the genetic testing is taking and I don't like that my kids feel like I don't have enough time for them. Mike was gone for four days working in Madison this past week/weekend for a big inspection on base. He was out of the house before 4:30 in the morning and either home late or not at all. Cal is getting over bronchitis and I lost my temper with one of his friends yesterday. Then last night was cub scouts for Mike and the kids and a different meeting for me. I miss my family.
Fortunately as of right now we have nothing scheduled for the next three nights. Mike will have to do the colonoscopy prep tomorrow afternoon/evening, which is a tough process, but at least we'll all be home together.
I'm trying not to let the "scanxiety" about the colonoscopy get to me, but it's hard. I don't like feeling scared. Mike says he isn't worried, that nothing could show up that fast, which is probably the case. I'll feel better Thursday after the doc confirms that everything looks good.
In the meantime I continue to try and find moments of peace where I can and see the joy that is around if only I take time to look for it.
On June 25, 2010, at age 37, my husband was diagnosed with colon cancer. Following a right-hemicolectomy, genetic testing determined the cause was due to HNPCC/Lynch Syndrome. On December 9, 2011 he had a subtotal colectomy.
Hang in there sweetie. I think we all have those days where we feel like the harder we try, the harder things get and there's no end in sight. Even if you can't see it yet, it is there. That moment where time is "suspended" just for a little while and you can look at the beautiful flocked trees and not see the 3 foot snowdrift that needs to be plowed. Just breathe. In with the good air, and out with the $#!+. Love ya!! Jenn (Hickenbottom) Dalton
ReplyDeleteThis is altogether so common, that everlasting "sock you in the gut" sense of urgency...but, you know, we find ways to get past it. Focus on the moment and listen to Jenn (gotta love her passion for life) because this is only just a part of the journey...that teaches us gratitude and just how wonderful each moment is...you know?
ReplyDeleteWe're always here for you, Mike and the kids!
Linda B. www.lynchcancers.com (P.S., your link has the url wrong!)
And I read the blog and I heard... One particular harbour. find your harbor love!!!!
ReplyDeleteWe will walk soon.... all is as it should be...
Namaste
Michelle
Thank you Jenn, Michelle & Linda. Posting on the blog does an amazing job of helping me let go of some of the "stuff".
ReplyDeleteMichelle - I am constantly reminding myself to find my harbor (which happens to be playing right now)
Linda - thank you for catching the url - it has been fixed :)
Jenn - thank you for putting things into perspective - the shoveling can wait, but hugging my kids can't.